Saturday's Child
by seaecho
Summary: When the Monkees go to Disneyland, Davy can't wait to get home. But it seems like the day will never end... Slash warning. Some language, sexual situations. Davy/Peter.
1. Chapter 1

Saturday... ahhhhh... _yesssssss._ When Davy awoke, as always, he automatically reached over for Peter's warm body, but this morning, all his hand met was cold sheets. Disappointment... _bitter_ disappointment.

Davy especially loved Saturdays, as the Monkees would usually take that day off if nothing were planned. No practice, and that meant he could have Peter all to himself.

More often than not, Peter's body would be wrapped around his like a spider for most of the night. No complaints there! By morning, Peter would be sleeping soundly, having drifted off to his own side of the bed, and Davy would wake him up in some gentle, playful way. With just a slight touch of his hand, Peter would be awake and responsive, rolling over to face him, innocent in such a precious way, yet ever eager for his love. That's when Saturday morning magic would begin.

_Then he remembered._ Disneyland- oh noooooo. The Monkees had been planning it for months, and Peter, being the eternal kid at heart, was especially excited about it.

Damn! Double damn! Davy would have much, much rather spent at least part of the day in bed with Peter. No, make that the _entire_ day. He positively hungered for Peter, and that never changed, never altered in any way. Making love with Peter was the best discovery he'd ever made.

Peter was always so ready, so willing, so giving. And Davy marveled at the way he loved giving back to Peter just as much. But damn, Peter was probably downstairs shoveling breakfast down his throat as fast as he could so they could leave for Disneyland just as soon as everyone was ready. In fact, Davy heard footsteps on the stairs right now, immediately identifying them as Peter's. He knew Peter inside and out-prided himself on it. Could even tell it was him when Peter walked silently into a room, barefoot.

All the Monkees went barefoot quite often in the house, but Peter was now practiced at moving like a panther. He might be clumsy at times, but he was surprisingly graceful when the situation called for it. He _knew _what Davy liked. And loved to please him. He knew Davy liked it when he slunk around, slipping in and out of the shadows, hugging the walls, lurking in wait for Davy to appear from a doorway, and then pouncing...

Oh shit... he'd better abandon this line of thought as he reminded himself that a long, tiring day at Disneyland loomed over his head. Loomed and doomed. Sure, he enjoyed doing things with Peter, but on Saturday morning, they always made love for what seemed like hours before even heading down the stairs. Saturday mornings were sacred. Davy was feeling mighty sorry for himself right now... Jealous he was, jealous of _Disneyland! _ How dumb was that?

"David! Its almost time to go!" Yup, it was Peter. As he came in the door, he forgot to be stealthy, couldn't contain himself, and fairly bounced up and down like a jack-in-the-box. His eyes sparkled, his dimpled smile was enormous, and he looked absolutely irresistible. But then, when _wasn't _Peter irresistible?

His freshly washed hair had its its usual blindingly brilliant blonde sheen, his dark blue button down shirt molded to his body, and those tight grey pants they all wore-not concealing much, and his belt buckle, as always, off to the side. For some odd reason, Peter's belt buckle cinched that way turned Davy on like nothing else. It was so unique, so... _Peter. _How could an off-centered belt buckle be so bloody sexy?

Davy noticed the top two buttons of Peter's shirt were left undone, just the way Davy liked it. He knew Peter had done that purposely, for him. It made Davy proud. Some of that enticing chest hair was showing, and Davy yearned with everything he had to yank Peter right back into bed with him.

As Peter neared the bed, Davy smelled his fresh soap smell and after shave, and the tingling down below was rapidly becoming quite a hard-on.

"Pete, have a heart, will ya? We didn't even get to fool around this morning."

"Aw, David. You know you'll get plenty of lovin' when we get home." Peter almost always referred to their lovemaking as 'lovin,' something Davy found endearing. The exception was when Peter was in the throes of passion, when he could be wonderfully explicit. That _really _made Davy pant.

"Tonight won't be soon enough for me," lamented Davy. He knew Peter would insist on staying at Disneyland until at least 8 or 9pm, no matter how tired the others were. It was always that way with Peter and Disneyland. They always ended up having to take desperate and sometimes unorthodox measures to get him out of there.

"Davy baby, Get up! Hurry! We might be able to make it by 10." Peter called him David ninety-nine percent of the time, so he was guessing the Davy part was thrown in as an effort to sweet talk him into rousing sooner.

"Peter, you're only making things harder for me, figuratively and literally," said Davy, lifting the sheet and eyeing his arousal with despair. Peter giggled, then turned around and said, "I love you," as he exited the bedroom door.

After Davy had showered, dressed, and gotten his hair just right, it was already almost 10. Peter was beside himself.

"The line for the Matterhorn will be impossibly long by now!"

"You'll live." Davy was in no mood to apologize. He was always grumpy when Peter denied him, luckily a rare occasion. If only Peter weren't so damn _good._

Micky and Mike split and went their own way as soon as they entered the gates. They knew Peter's favorite haunts at Disneyland very well, and they weren't about to tag along. They also knew, however, that Davy would go with Peter, so they made their usual agreement to meet at the big clock around 1pm for lunch.

Peter and Davy stood in the ridiculously long line for the Matterhorn for nearly two hours. By the time they got off the ride, it was already 12:30. Just enough time for the haunted house, another _must do_ for Peter. The nice thing about that ride was that Peter would grab Davy every time he got scared, and Davy ate that right up, burying his nose in Peter's neck in the dark, stealing a few moments of utter bliss. And Peter yielding to it...practically purring like a kitten.

After that, they met Mike and Micky, and Peter had two hot dogs with the works for lunch. Davy had a burger. For dessert, Peter had some cotton candy and a frozen banana. The Monkees then separated again, agreeing to meet at the clock again at around 6pm.

The merry-go-round was easily one of Peter's top three favorite rides. Davy wanted to sit it out and just watch Peter, but Peter insisted Davy join him. Davy had never been more embarrassed in his life, sitting on the carousel horse, gliding up and down along with all the kids that were mostly under ten years old. Every time he looked at Peter, though, he was rewarded with an adorable dimpled smile that more than made up for the discomfort.

Soon after looking at some exhibits, Peter announced he wanted a snow cone. "Peter! You've just had a huge cotton candy and a frozen banana!" Davy knew all too well about Peter's appetite-both in bed and out. And he knew Peter would eat almost nonstop until they left Disneyland. Amazing that he never even got a stomachache. Mike always said he had a cast iron stomach. Peter never really got his fill. Peter ate like he made love-tirelessly and with relish.

After the snow cone and a couple more rides, Peter headed for the funnel cake booth. "You've _got_ to be joking!" Davy was incredulous. Peter asked Davy to help him eat it, but Davy could only choke down a fourth of it. Davy noted that Peter had no trouble inhaling the rest.

The Pirates of the Carribean was next. Its line was nearly as long as the Matterhorn. All the better for Davy to oogle Peter. Waiting in line _did _have its benefits. They couldn't touch, hold hands or kiss at Disneyland, and that was just as hard on Davy as not being able to make love. But Davy could let his eyes wander over Peter's lean, fit body. His butt was so nicely shaped, lightly muscled arms from working out, and his crotch, well, those pants left little to the imagination. Peter was such a hands-on guy, almost constantly making bodily contact with Davy when they were alone, and Davy was suffering for the lack of it. But he _could _look at Peter, and he did- and to hell with anyone who didn't like it. He wanted to touch Peter so badly, his body burned. If nothing else, he at least wanted to be able to hug him, or touch his cheek tenderly with his palm.

They shot rifles at stuffed ducks, and when Peter bent over to aim, his butt pushed right up against Davy's crotch. Davy was sure he'd done it on purpose. Teasing him. The bulge in Davy's pants was growing again. It was Davy's own fault though, for standing so close behind Peter. But, agonizing as it was, Davy couldn't stop allowing Peter to tempt him. Sweet, sweet torture.

The submarine ride was one of Davy's favorites because there was so much to look at, but today all he had eyes for was Peter. Peter, with a wondrous look on his face, enjoying the ride to the fullest the way he did with everything in life. That zest he had for life was one of his biggest attractions as far as Davy was concerned. Always cheerful and happy, yet such a sensitive, loving soul.

Peter felt Davy's eyes on him and turned his head to meet Davy's gaze, and his amber/green eyes glittered as he smiled rather shyly, then looked down demurely. _He's flirting with me,_ thought Davy. And doing a damn good job of it, too. Peter knew how to push all Davy's buttons. Every one of them.

The ferris wheel was next, and it was one of the worst temptations, since he'd be sitting right next to Peter, yet he couldn't touch him like he could in the dark haunted house. While at the top of the ferris wheel, it stopped, and Peter took the opportunity to slyly slip one hand behind Davy, running it ever so slowly down to the base of Davy's spine, and then rubbing ever so lightly, something he knew always made Davy's libido skyrocket in a split second.

"Jesus, Peter! You're gonna get it when we get home!"

Peter just flashed Davy one of his sweet, innocent-appearing smiles. _The devil in disguise, he was. _

By 6 o'clock, Davy was close to bursting to head home. The urge to get down on his knees and beg even came to mind. But Peter had other ideas, and after the four of them had met for dinner, off they went in separate directions again. This time though, Davy emphasized he and Peter would meet Micky and Mike again at 8, and they'd be ready to head home. He said this resolutely and firmly as he sliced a warning glare at Peter so there would be no misunderstandings.

Davy's pants had been uncomfortably snug all day, and his almost constant erection ached with longing for Peter. Would this day never end? _If he could just kiss and hug him once, lick that soft, furry chest... _The aching throb was becoming more unbearable by the second.

"Let's sit down in the shade for a few minutes," pleaded Davy. "All we've been doing is walking, going on rides or eating. I want to just rest for a little while." _And fantasize about what will happen later._

There was no damn privacy to be found, so Davy picked a bench under a tree, barely tolerating the people who constantly walked by. They set his teeth on edge. All the noise, the claustrophobia. It didn't help that he and Peter kept getting curious looks-people couldn't help gawking at these two young, attractive guys with long hair, and Davy, as usual, got the most scrutinizing looks. The older generation, especially the men, looked at them as if they were freaks. The pre teen, teen and young women were openly fascinated.

Davy looked young for his age with his baby face. His amazingly good looks and athletic, fit body caused him to get even more attention than Peter, who still got his own fair share of stares. The contrast between the two made them all the more attractive to women. The dark, quiet, mysterious one with the chocolate brown eyes and the blonde happy-go-lucky, energetic one with the hazel eyes that changed with the amount of light and Peter's emotions. They captivated nearly everyone, albeit in different ways.

"Look!" cried Peter, pointing to the left. "Giant soft pretzels!"

_Oh no, not again._ "Pete, for Christ's sake, you've just had dinner!" complained Davy, to no avail. Peter was already in line before Davy had even finished the sentence. Where in hell did Peter put all that food? When he came back, he had one for Davy too. So Davy felt obligated to eat it, of course. At least Peter hadn't gotten him a chocolate dipped one like he had for himself. Even Peter knew that would be pushing it too far.

Suddenly Davy spied a currently deserted small barn where they'd been giving sheep shearing demonstrations a little while ago. No one was in there! Davy's eyes glimmered with barely suppressed anticipation. After impatiently waiting for Peter to take his last bite of pretzel, Davy dragged him in there.

Peter looked around at the piles of white wool that hadn't yet been swept up, and said, "Boy, Davy. So many things to do and look at, and you want to see piles of sheep wool?"

"Shhhh... " Davy buried his hands in Peter's silky soft hair. Peter's eyes instantly lit up with a fire that Davy recognized only too well. _Wow, _marveled Davy. _Doesn't take much. _ Davy could crank up the bassist's thermostat with the barest hint of intimacy. Peter's response always excited him. Peter let Davy eagerly push him up against one of the interior stall walls , feeling deliciously weak and vulnerable in the face of Davy's considerable persuasiveness. Davy's mouth was on his in a hot second.

Having Davy's body pressing him back, with nowhere to go, Peter's heart raced as he felt Davy's too-long suppressed desire, and he easily matched Davy's urgency. They kissed long and hard, with a quiet kind of desperation. Davy smiled inwardly. Peter's fire had never been difficult for him to stoke. Peter spread his legs a bit to be on the same level with Davy so he could rub his hard-on against Davy's. Davy grabbed Peter's buttocks and ground into him.

Peter had that half dazed, dreamy look in his eyes that he got when he was really turned on. It sent a raging heat through Davy. Peter was more than receptive, hot and ready for him... and here they were at _Disneyland_, of all places! All he wanted was to be at home, in bed, with Peter, and that was probably at least a couple of hours away, depending on how successful the Monkees would be in getting Peter out of the park. They couldn't very well drag him out by his arms and legs; they'd tried that in the past, resulting in getting undue attention from the security guards. That, in turn, resulted in them getting home even later because they'd had to convince the guards that Peter had such an obsession with Disneyland that dragging him away was their only option.

Davy tried to think of something. "Peter... let's just do another couple of rides, then go wait for Mike and Mick, yeah?"

"We've got another couple of hours before they'll be there," Peter's voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes hooded. Well, it was clear he was still under Davy's spell-a good sign. He was so aroused that he looked drugged. He sure didn't need to be smoking pot to get that _look_ when he was ready for some lovin.' It was driving Davy wild.

"I don't know how much longer I can hold out."

"You've still got a boner?" Peter's eyes were suddenly huge as he eyed Davy's crotch. Davy, despite the acute discomfort in his pants, choked down a laugh. Peter certainly had a way with words.

"Of course I do! You little shit! You've been teasing me all day. You know only too well I've had a hard-on just about all day! And...speaking of hard-ons- look at _yourself!"_ There was no way Peter could hide his massive hard-on in those impossibly tight pants.

_"Me,_ a little shit? You're seven inches shorter than me!"

"You know what I mean!" Davy sighed loud and long.

"How are we going to go on another ride with boners?" Peter looked so serious about it that Davy broke down and he had to give way to the laughter.

"Let's try to think about something else," was Davy's suggestion, although he knew it would be short lived-at least for _him_ it would.

"The teacups! Oh David...you _know_ how much I love the teacups! We have to go on them!" When Davy started to open his mouth to object, Peter stuck his lower lip out just enough to almost melt Davy's heart. Davy wouldn't have been caught dead on the teacups with anyone in the world but Peter. And there they suddenly were, whirling around and around... and around. Before 30 seconds had elapsed, Davy started to sense an uneasy sensation, and realized he was getting nauseated. He tried to just grit it out, however, so as not to ruin Peter's good time. He was getting unpleasantly dizzy now too, and wondered what effect the spinning had on Peter.

Just then, he looked over at Peter and saw that he looked quite pale and much quieter than usual. "Pete, you okay?" he asked.

"Um... I don't know. I think I might puke." _Oh great! _ Just what Davy needed-Peter puking all over him. The thought horrified him. Especially when he remembered everything Peter had eaten. Davy quickly signaled the guy who operated the ride to stop it, which, thankfully, he did.

As he and Peter climbed off the ride, with tons of people staring at them, Davy whispered, "If you hadn't eaten all that junk today, this wouldn't have happened! Now everyone here thinks we're afraid to ride the damn _teacups!"_

"Pete... Pete, you aren't gonna puke, are you?"

"I think we got off in time," said Peter in a very weak, shakey voice. "But I think I'm ready to go home." This was music to Davy's ears. But they still had an hour and a half to go before meeting the other two. Davy would have liked to spend that time making out, but they were both too queasy to walk back to the sheep shearing barn.

In the end, after Peter's stomach had settled a bit, they decided to go to the clock an hour early. Peter was still feeling a bit woozy, so they traveled slowly. Joy of joys, Mike and Micky were already there, sitting underneath the clock, looking as worn out as Davy felt. "We've been here eight hours-I think that's enough," Mike summed it up nicely.

"What's wrong with Pete?" asked Micky.

"I'll tell ya exactly what's wrong with him. He ate hot dogs, cotton candy, a frozen banana, a snow cone, funnel cake, a giant pretzel, and lunch and dinner, of course."

"Don't forget about the ice cream cone," said Peter.

"Oh yeah, that too." That had happened sometime between rides-which ones Davy had no recollection, and didn't care to try to remember.

Mike just shook his head in disbelief. "I'm amazed he didn't throw up on one of the rides!"

"He almost did, and to think... he wanted to go on the hammer! God, what a mess that would have been... all those people underneath too, if we'd been hanging upside down."

"Oh Christ, I don't even wanna picture that!" said Micky, sticking his tongue out comically.

"Let's go," the three of them said in unison. Peter, still fighting off the remnants of his nausea, silently followed along submissively.

_Just wait until we get inside the Monkeemobile!_ Davy was thinking to himself. He'd finally have Peter in his clutches, and they'd be that much closer to home. Davy quivered with the anticipation.


	2. Chapter 2

After disembarking from the shuttle, the Monkees gratefully piled into the Monkeemobile, nearly ecstatic to be only half an hour from home. Three of them were almost giddy, not quite able to believe their luck-they'd actually gotten Peter away from the Magic Kingdom earlier than expected! Peter was still quieter than normal-no doubt he still had a bit of lingering queasiness.

Mike and Micky were in the front, as usual, Peter and Davy in the back.

"How ya feelin,' mate?" Davy asked Peter quietly.

"Lots better now. If I'd stayed on that ride though..." Peter trailed off.

"Best to not enlarge on that," was Davy's response, grimacing a bit to himself when he was reminded of what _could_ have happened.

Soon after they were settled inside the car, Peter snuggled up to Davy. _Oh yesssss, soooo sweet... and so long awaited. _Davy'd been waiting for this for a damned eternity. In a daze he realized that In less than an hour, they'd be all alone, nothing and no one to take Peter away from him.

Davy held Peter's face between his hands and just stared into the depths of his eyes. Peter smiled in that impish, free-from-sin way of his that always caused Davy's heart to flutter more than a little bit. Neither looked away... it was the most intimate component of their relationship, and the one Peter loved the most-exploring each other's souls. The tenderness between them eclipsed even the sexual desire.

A torrent of emotions cascaded over Peter. Davy had been so patient with him, which was nearly always the case. He knew he'd been tormenting Davy all day, yet Davy had tolerated it just so Peter could fully enjoy his long awaited trip to Disneyland. It just made him love Davy all the more. And yes, he loved him.

Mike and Micky sensed what was going on in the backseat, so they maintained constant conversation, as it made them a bit ill at ease. The other two were a lot more emotional and sensitive than Micky and Mike, and in their eagerness for each other, they weren't always as discreet as they tried to be.

"Can I have a kiss?" whispered Peter as if he were a kid asking eagerly for a piece of candy or a favorite toy.

"Can you ever, " David whispered back, jubiliant to be able to give Peter's lips more of the treatment they'd gotten in the sheep shearing barn, only with even less inhibition. That epsiode had only whetted his considerable appetite for the blonde.

Davy nudged Peter over close to the opposite door and stretched out on the bench seat, so his could put his head in Peter's lap, enjoying the way Peter petted his face for a while, then rose up a bit so he was practically sitting in Peter's lap, the better to kiss him. With his arms around Peter's neck, he started with what skin was exposed by Peter's shirt, kissing his chest, then kissing his way up to Peter's neck, then finally to his lips. This time there was no sizzling going on-the flame roared high and white hot the moment their lips touched. It had been too long of a wait. From a simmer to a rolling boil in two seconds flat. High time they got down to business, thought Davy.

Peter's hand lay tenderly on Davy's thigh, and Davy was hyper aware of it, wanting so much more, but knowing they had to wait until they got home, safely tucked away into their own bedroom. Then the love and lust could be unleashed. It was a good thing Mike had turned the radio on, as things were so hot and heavy, the two in the front seat would surely have heard the deep, raspy breathing in the back.

Peter clung to Davy as if he were afraid of slipping over the edge of a cliff. As if Davy were his lifeline, his salvation.

They kissed the entire trip home, stopping only to answer some random question from Micky or Mike. Both knew they sounded winded, artificial, but it couldn't be helped. They had eyes and thoughts only for each other, and talking to anyone else was just too much effort, too much intrusion into their private world.

When they arrived home, Peter and Davy were, naturally, the first out of the Monkeemobile, and into the pad.

"Me feet are killin' me," said Davy, reverting back to his full Manchester accent unconsiously. When his emotions ran high for any reason, he tended to do that. "Gotta go lie down," and he was up the stairs-just like that. That boy had a way of disappearing that Peter still was not used to. Like a lizard that is spied by a predator, Davy darted to his destination leaving neither trace nor trail.

_Thanks a lot, David,_ thought Peter. Leave me with having to find an excuse to get _myself_ up there as soon as possible.

"Peter!" called Davy, from upstairs, cracking the door. "Can you do me a favor and come rub my feet? They're killin' me!"

Mike and Micky tried their best to hide their grins as Peter blushed deep red, but nonetheless took the stairs three at a time. When the bedroom door had closed, Mike said in a hushed voice, "I can't say I'd like to witness what happens up there, but that was pretty sharp thinking on David's part, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, it wasn't bad. You could almost say they're a little bit charming in their own way." Micky made a funny face. "I'm so tired I doubt they'll even keep me up tonight."

Peter was getting nervous-Davy saw that as soon as he entered the room and closed the door. Like radar, he picked up on it. Why did this have to happen tonight? When he'd been waiting so long?

"Thanks for leaving me to the wolves down there," said Peter, to fill the silence, slight resentment peppering his voice.

"I still came to your rescue though, didn't I?"

"Well yeah, but I still felt like a pervert when I saw they were trying not to snicker."

"I'll make it up to you," said Davy softly, his voice more like a caress than words.

Peter was clearly agitated-the way he often got when suddenly left alone with Davy. Why he still got the jitters confounded Davy, even after all these months, and all the intimacy they had shared. Peter needed to unwind after being at Disneyland-Davy got that, but why was he still almost like a bashful kid so often at these times? Once you warmed him up he was so exuberant you'd never dream he was the same person. But until that happened... .maybe because he felt what they were doing was taboo?

Peter sat there looking down at the bedspread, avoiding Davy's eyes, his hair falling forward, and Davy reached out to gently brush it back. Just that little bit of a touch sent bolts of electricity up Davy's backbone.

"Okay, maybe its time for the lyrics game," Davy sighed and waited patiently. As usual, Peter's ears perked up. The lyrics game was something Peter and Davy had made up that was uniquely theirs, and never failed to loosen Peter up and make him receptive to Davy's advances in fairly short order. Peter nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay, 'it takes much more,' said Davy.

Peter only hesitated a second or two at the most.

"To be someone of your own. 'Auntie Griselda."

"Wow, you're sharp tonight. Let's see... 'I feel the moments...'

This time Peter was a little slower-by maybe three more seconds.

"...hurry on. It was today, its died away, and now it is forever gone. ' Early Morning Blues and Greens.'

Davy shook his head in wonder. Peter was a master at memorizing lyrics.

Peter was warming up to the game now. "My turn! 'And if the lines I say...'

"Ah, come on, too easy. '...fall apart, its because I won't know where to start. 'On The Day We Fall In Love.' Man, that song is cheesy," lamented Davy.

"Its romantic! Okay, here's another one. 'Even if I could.'

This one took Davy a full 5 seconds.

"And I wouldn't live without her, even if I could. 'Valleri.'

Davy's turn again. "But then she turned around..."

"...and broke my heart. ' She.'

"Tasted fear."

"We had never lived without or tasted fear. 'Shades of Grey.' Do you really think I'd not know _that_ one?" Peter smiled sweetly, his dimple stabbing Davy in the heart.

It was true-"Shades of Grey," very haunting, unique and beautiful, was their mutual favorite. And the fact that they sang harmony made it all the more special to the two of them.

Peter's turn again, "Be a little bit stronger."

"Hold on Girl."

"Good! Doodee ronday ronday doodee ron ron."

"Okay, that's _enough!_ Talk about corny. 'She Hangs Out.' Davy was laughing. "I like the song, but those particular lyrics are a bit... odd." Peter always eventually made him laugh when they played this game. The little Brit reminised for a second about how Peter made his weird popping "P" noises with his mouth when doing "Peter Percival Patterson's Pet Pig Porky." That one always had him in stitches. He'd better not mention it now if he wanted Peter in a serious mood.

"I'd rather watch you hump the bass than do the lyrics game anyday," Davy was still giggling in spite of himself. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but it gives me a hard-on every time."

"It turns _me_ on, ever since you told me it turns _you_ on. That's why I'm always grateful I have the bass in front of you-know-what!"

"Well, as big are you are, it would be hard to hide in those tight gray pants, or _any_ pants, really. You don't know how many times I've noticed your... er... excitement in those pants. I swear it looks like you stuck a toilet paper roll in there, only longer. Makes me wonder how many other people have seen it too. You know, it might help if you wore underwear."

"_You're_ the one who told me _not _to!" protested Peter. He was right, too. Davy loved looking at the outline of Peter's gorgeous package so much that he sometimes lost sight of anyone else existing but the two of them.

He knew just what types of things aroused Peter, too. If Davy half-smiled in a certain suggestive way at Peter, or snapped his fingers to the beat, or put his hands on Peter's shoulders the way he did when they played 'Daydream Believer,' or lifted his tambourine high over his head and moved just so... not to mention when Davy danced-that did it every time with no exceptions. Funny but it seemed that only Davy caused Peter to get those spontanous erections in the middle of practice, rehearsal or a gig. It even happened when they sat on the couch, and Peter showed Davy how to play certain chords on a guitar or bass. Sometimes they'd even had to stop and "take care of business" so Peter could concentrate on teaching Davy the instrument. Davy felt strangely proud of the effect he had on Peter.

"One of these days you'll be playing your bass and thrusting, and you'll get a bit more than you bargained for," teased Davy.

Peter suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Don't tell anyone... but... its already ...happened."

_"WHAT?"_

"It wasn't my fault. You got in close to me like you usually do, but that time you were practically on top of me, when you were playing your maracas. Remember that? You backed up right into me and kept right on singing and shaking those maracas, not moving away... actually leaning into me, and I couldn't stand it anymore-your closeness." Peter had a dreamy yet self conscious look as he mentally re-lived the experience.

"You _came?" _Davy was incredulous.

"Yep. I had to run to the bathroom. Remember that day at practice, I came out of the bathroom and my pants were wet in front-after I tried wiping it off, the spot was even bigger, and I told you guys I waited a bit too long to go to the bathroom?"

Davy burst into hysterical laughter. "I do! _That_ was the day?" he choked out when he was able to find his voice and talk again. "Why didn't you tell me when we were alone?"

"We hadn't started _seeing_ each other in that way yet," Peter said delicately. Davy loved the way Peter referred to certain subjects with such an innocent air. It reminded him of Peter using the term 'lovin' when he was referring to sex. Davy couldn't help it-he found it very appealing.

"Yeah, you're right. That was some time ago. I do remember it too, because I was getting in close to you on purpose. I guess you could say I was... flirting. How do you keep it from happening now?" Davy was curious.

"Oh, I'm careful not to touch myself too much with the back of the bass. If it rubs just so, and you do something to trigger me, well...it probably _would_ happen again."

"Oh Peter, I love you," Davy put his arms around Peter. "And the way you express yourself too. You do things that intoxicate me. I love when you close your eyes sometimes when you sing... and when you get that almost orgasmic look on your face when you're really feelin' the music. But you dancing at the keyboard, and _especially_ the bass get to me the most."

_Oh...Oh...Oh... _here it came. That suspense-that distant thunder-that _intrique _hanging thickin the air. Davy could feel it, and he would have recognized it anywhere. Peter was warming up to him. There wasn't the slightest doubt in Davy's mind. All he had to do, really, if he'd had any doubt at all, was to look at the front of Peter's pants. But _that _wasn't even necessary, as Peter was giving off all kinds of subtle clues that Davy had learned to pick up on...

The slight hitch in Peter's breathing, the warm glow in his eyes, which were turning dark with passion, the way Peter hugged him back so eagerly. Davy was convinced Peter was the only person in the entire world who could tell a whole story with just a hug. His hugs were positively _expressive._

Then there was the way Peter's body relaxed right into his. Kind of melted, like what hot fudge sauce does to ice cream when drizzled over it. The tension was easing fast. Peter became a teddy bear, soft, warm and fuzzy and completely moldable against his body when he was in a loving mood.

Davy felt his heart quicken and he had the sensation of floating in a sea of tantalizing want. The gentle waves lapped at him, coaxed him to immerse himself. His chest felt constricted-he had to restrain himself for the tenth time from ravishing Peter.

"Peter..." he whispered softly. "Peter..."

"Davy... Davy baby... love me." Those words shot through Davy like an arrow slathered heavily with thick, drugging passion. Peter almost always called him David, but the occasional 'Davy' would slip out when he was spellbound, as he was now. Davy gulped, struggling once again to maintain control. And almost not succeeding. He reminded himself that a natural flow was what was imperative here. Peter was much like a female in that way. He needed a slow, gentle build-up. At least _most_ of the time.

They were prone on the bed now, lazily taking each other's shirts off, in no hurry... Or seemingly. Outwardly he appeared calm and cool-just enjoying what was happening. Inside his head, Davy's mind was racing ahead, imagining all the possibilities. This was gonna be good. But when had it _ever_ been bad with Peter? Not once.


	3. Chapter 3

Davy took a deep breath and settled in for the challenge. Heck, he liked challenges anyway. That might have been part of Peter's tremendous appeal. In many ways, Peter could be compared to the hot blooded Thoroughbred horses Davy loved to ride. They were certainly a challenge; you had to use finesse, and in addition, build their trust in you. You had to calm the wild beast. Lots of encouragement, lots of petting required.

Petting-a nice concept. Peter reminded Davy of the skittish nature of the horses. A foundation of trust made such a huge difference. And Davy was confident he already had Peter's trust. But he _did _require patience_. _Peter and the necessity for patience just seemed to go together. Petting could reinforce that trust. The whole scenario was playing out in Davy's head, and the thought of petting Peter was sounding very intriguing right now.

Why Peter was so completely receptive to him and uninhibited in the morning, the middle of the night, or anytime when they were alone together, yet became painfully shy when coming home from somewhere, or even if he and Davy had been separated for a few hours, Davy couldn't figure out. Peter could be a mystery. It was as if he had to woo him each time, but it also held a strangely exciting undercurrent to not be able to have Peter immediately available at all times. The thrill of the chase...

The whole night lay ahead, and he'd decided the cute blonde bass player beside him might benefit from a little teasing. He'd teased Davy _all day, _so fair play, right? Teasing and petting...the thought wove erotic thoughts in Davy's head.

"Back rub, that's what you need," the gleam in Davy's dark eyes, the same one that nearly brought girls to their knees, was more prominent even than usual. That gleam made Peter feel weak. He sensed that Davy was up to no good. Or maybe up to _REAL_ good, depending on how you looked at it. Peter felt himself twitch below the belt...then rapidly expand.

Peter was on his stomach in a nano second, looking eagerly ahead mentally as Davy sat astraddle him. Davy's hands moved lightly at first, starting at the base of Peter's neck. "Your hair is the color of golden honey, ya know?" said Davy as he kneaded the knotted muscles.

"Um," said Peter, not sure what he was expected to say to that, and somewhat embarrassed by what he supposed was a compliment.

Working down to his shoulders and upper arms, Davy rubbed gently yet firmly, loosening those borderline tense muscles with steady determination. Determination to get Peter as relaxed as possible. Relaxed and affectionate and floppy as a puppy dog.

"Now...let's rehash what happened at Disneyland," Davy quipped on a whim.

"What do you mean?" Peter was suspicious of his tone.

"Your teasing, flirting ... flashing me that wickedly come- hither look you're so good at. And throwing the dimple in too, for good measure."

"I can't help the dimple-its just _part_ of me!"

"You know just when to use it though. If you didn't smile at me, the dimple wouldn't have been doing its creasing and making me want to rape you in front of _everyone_!"

"Disneyland is a family place," a slightly indignant Peter chastised, clapping his hand over his mouth.

"Well, It would have lost its reputation real fast if you'd kept it up," Davy assured him. "My gentlemanly ways were hanging onto their last thread."

_Him, making love to Peter at Disneyland, right there on the ground, as thousands of people watched on in disbelief and horror._ What a sight that would have been. The headlines in the newspaper: "Public homosexal activity may be the ruin of the Magic Kingdom." Davy smiled inwardly, then giggled in spite of himself.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Just picturing it, that's all."

Davy's hands were now on Peter's bare back again, massaging his shoulder blades, then slowly working over to his spine, then teasing their way to the base of his spine, where Davy suddenly decreased the pressure and began rubbing very lightly. Peter gasped. They were both very sensitive in that area.

"Ahhh... so I see you are liking the same treatment you gave me on the ferris wheel?" Davy bent over to say this into Peter's ear, his mouth close, his voice breathless. He continued with the light rubbing, narrowing it down to a smaller area, and drawing small circles now with just his fingertips. Peter squirmed, then when Davy traced his spine up and down with just a single finger, Peter started to practically writhe under his touch.

"A little taste of your own medicine for ya. Only I couldn't do a damn thing about it on the ferris wheel, and neither will you," Davy reprimanded, as Peter tried to turn over. Davy held him down flat-the Brit was surprisingly strong for his size. "Its not fun being tortured, is it? And just to think, you did it to me for the whole day."

"David, come on. That spot you're touching is making something happen."

"I sure hope so. That's my goal."

The tingling in Peter's crotch had launched into an erection that was hard as a brick. He surmised the same thing was happening to Davy, judging from the way Davy seemed to be fighting demons that were urging him to grind against Peter's backside that he was sitting on.

Those damn pants were in the way, keeping Davy from massaging Peter's buttocks-something he wanted very much to do. So instead he massaged Peter's sides, leaning over until he was almost flat on top of Peter. He gave in to the magnetic pull of Peter's body and laid down on top of Peter's back. Nothing in the world was as nice as Peter's warm body up against his.

"This feels so damn good," he murmured softly into Peter's ear.

This sent chills prickling through Peter. Davy's warm body on his back, Davy still massaging his sides with so much tenderness. _What a lover Davy was,_ and they hadn't even _done _anything yet!

"It would feel even better if we were skin to skin-no clothes in between," Davy sighed, his voice entrancing Peter.

"First, come here," Peter gestured Davy off the bed. Davy just looked at him in confusion, and Peter flipped over onto his back, his bulging crotch very evident.

"What a welcome sight that is at the end of a very, very long day," Davy said almost to himself as he openly admired the front of Peter's pants. Peter blushed, but continued to nudge Davy off the bed. Still perplexed, Davy did Peter's bidding.

Peter guided him with the pull of a hand on his wrist to the side of the bed, up near the headboard, and then leaned over and the next thing Davy knew, Peter was nibbling at the front of his pants. He jerked with the shock of it, but was soon so far gone that he couldn't fight it-had to surrender to the sensation. He was lost in the feel of Peter's mouth. So much for getting back at Peter for all the suspense he'd put him through today.

That Peter, always full of surprises, and almost impossible to resist. Davy could no more have pulled away than he could have flown to the moon. And that's where Peter was taking him, come to think of it. The slight friction of Peter's teeth on the soft material of his gray pants was making him feel like he'd go mad if Peter didn't stop this messing around soon.

The front of Davy's pants was wet from Peter's mouth, and Peter was breathing like a steam engine. This was clearly exciting him just as much as it titilated Davy.

Davy gritted his teeth, then ground out a plea, "Pete, I can't take much more of this." His voice sounded tight, constricted, unnatural.

Peter ignored him and now began to lick slowly and sensually at the same spot. Davy could feel the warmth of Peter's wet tongue right through his pants. The material was thin, and he'd secretly taken to Peter's habit of wearing no underwear. It was almost as if Peter were licking his bare skin... but not _quite._

"Okay mate. I'm at your mercy. Please either let me take my pants off, or unzip me..."

Peter began his nibbling anew, and Davy couldn't hold back. He reached over and struggled with that damn sexy sideways buckle of Peter's that, of course, was more difficult to unfasten than one that had been centered, the way the rest of them wore their belts. Davy cursed under his breath as it at last came undone.

Peter immediately scooted his lower body backward, toward the other side of the bed, out of Davy's reach.

"Nope! Not gonna happen! Get your ass, and your pants, back over here before I come after you!" Davy dove head first onto the bed, intent on getting Peter's pants off one way or another. Peter started to giggle, which only served to exasperate Davy more.

"You teasing shit! I ought to bloody _FUCK_ you!" Peter became stock still, aghast, and Davy bouldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth. He fervently hoped Peter knew he hadn't meant it. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh either, and he was, after all, playing a teasing game with Peter, but he guessed his frustration had peeked through. He'd never lay a hand on Peter in anger, and he wanted to be certain Peter knew that without a doubt.

He softened immediately. "Hey, you _do_ know I didn't mean it to sound the way it came out, don't you? I got a bit carried away with our joking around, and you being so coy with me... and wanting you so damn much."

Peter answered him silently by resting his head in the nook between Davy's neck and shoulder.

They'd given each other lots of blow jobs, sure. But to actually penetrate? And Davy had actually threatened to do it just now... he felt terrible.

Neither one of them had ever brought it up and they'd had more or less a silent understanding that they were happy with the way things were. More than satisfied-there was ample proof of that. The mind-blowing orgasms, the moans of such sweet, complete release, the kind of thing that couldn't be fabricated.

Things were a bit too quiet for a couple of minutes as both guys tried to regain their bearings. Davy finally dared to look at Peter's face when he was over the worst of his shock at his own atrocity, and was amazed to see that Peter had that classic "want lovin" look to him. Bedroom eyes, to use an old expression. But why?

"Really? You'd like to do that?" Peter sounded like a school child being offered something that was frightening, mysterious, yet still intriguing_. _He obviously hadn't beenfrightened by Davy's words. Those hooded eyelids told the whole story without Peter having to say one more word.

Well, he'd be damned! He never would have thought Peter would be interested in something of that nature.

"Your question... has me... puzzled. No... that's not the word. I... don't know what word I'm looking for. Let's just say I'm just shocked as hell..." was all Davy was capable of saying right now.

"I trust you more than anyone else in the world. I trust you with my life." Peter had a way of melting his heart unlike any other person he'd ever known.

"I know, and I'm sorry about not being able to answer your question. I just don't know..."

"It turned me on... when you said.. what you wanted... to do... to me." Peter flushed a bright scarlet hue and didn't meet Davy's eyes.

Davy cleared his throat uncomfortably. Peter was so innocent in a lot of ways. His trust in Davy meant a lot. But this was material Davy was just not ready to even _think_ about, let alone _consider._ He'd need some time to absorb it before even discussing it with Peter.

Peter was busy unzipping Davy's pants, then lowering them. "And you yelled at _me_ for not wearing underwear!"

Davy chuckled as he stepped out of his pants, his erection springing forward.

"Makes for a cleaner look-no "panty lines." And, as Mike says, I'm JGE."

"I forgot what that stands for."

"Just gay enough. Oddly enough, he started saying that _before _you and I got... involved. Uncanny, isn't it? Almost like he had a premonition."

"I don't think you look or act gay at all."

"I didn't think so either, and neither do girls, apparently. But Mike must have seen _something _in me for him to say that."

"Probably because you have a baby face, and spend so much time in front of the mirror," said Peter matter of factly. "You know, always combing your hair and having to look just right."

Davy delighted in Peter's simple explanations. But for the moment, he had only one thing in mind-giving Peter some lovin.'


	4. Chapter 4

Man, it was hard to believe how Peter could disarm him with only a touch or a comment. The power Peter had over him was almost disturbing. This kind of thing could get totally out of hand-wanting and needing someone this much. Right now, he was nuzzling his face into Davy's cheek, letting Davy revel in the roughness of his beard. Davy preferred he not shave at night, as he loved the feel of Peter's stubble on his skin. Peter was only too happy to oblige.

Peter rolled over onto his back again, and Davy wasted no time in going for his neck. He loved the way Peter let his head fall back on the pillow with such abandon, completely exposing his neck to Davy. In the animal kingdom, this meant total submission and/or trust. And knowing Peter trusted him that completely was an extreme aphrodisiac. So he gave sucking kisses to Peter's entire soft, vulnerable neck, a low growl/moan coming from his throat as he did so, feeling like an alpha male, but in a very loving way.

And Peter loved giving it up for Davy. Leaning more toward the passive type, Peter loved letting Davy have full reign, so they complimented each other very well.

All Davy's control had now gone out the window. Peter's pants were still not off, although his belt was unfastened. Davy wore nothing but his socks and lovebeads. And wouldn't you know it, right when Davy was getting ready to undress Peter the rest of the way, Peter backed away again. Playfully, yes. But Peter's treatment of him was now bordering on cruel. Davy was at the end of his patience. This was no longer a game for him, but a seemingly futile pursuit. Davy felt he hadn't made any progress. Peter wasn't following through, but instead just kept dangling the carrot in front of Davy's nose, then pulling even farther away from him, just out of reach.

Davy decided he'd reached his limit. He climbed off his own bed, where they had settled when coming into the room, and got into Peter's bed, flopping down rather dramatically with a loud sigh, turning his back to Peter. _Enough is enough._

A couple of minutes of silence elapsed. Davy felt as if he were the only one in the room. It was that quiet. "Daaaaaavvvvvvvy, Daaaaavvvvvvy baaaaaabbby," Peter's voice floated sweetly across the few feet that separated them. Peter knew full well how those words could turn a raging bull into an innocuous kitten, where Davy was concerned. _NOW,_ now Peter was manipulating him. Grumbling to himself, Davy got under the sheets and pulled the covers over his head, plugging his ears with his fingers, determined to snuff out Peter's voice.

It got noticeably darker a minute later, and Davy knew Peter had turned the lamp off. So he waited, wondering if Peter would come after him, or stay where he was. It seemed Peter must be as annoyed as he was, because, this time, at least 5 minutes of dead silence went by, and Davy, really irritated now, assumed Peter was pouting, and would eventually fall asleep. He guessed he'd have to take his frustration "into his own hands," much as he hated to not be able to share with Peter.

He knew how persistent Peter could be in some situations. And he refused to go on playing this game any longer. Yes, it was always even sweeter than he imagined possible when Peter finally gave in, but going to these extremes simply wasn't necessary. Peter was going overboard, no one would argue with that. Especially after all Davy had endured today for Peter's sake.

Suddenly the corner of the covers lifted, and Davy jumped in alarm as Peter's head appeared.

"Love is understanding. Its in everything we do." There was Peter's face, only inches from Davy's, smiling at his own cleverness. _Did Peter have any idea what that smile did to Davy?_

"No more lyrics game!"

"But I'm not _playing_ the lyrics game. I'm just stating what's true," Peter sounded petulant.

"But you just _happened _to quote "For Pete's Sake" lyrics? What a coincidence!" Davy's laugh was not heartfelt. In fact, it was rather bitter sounding.

"I thought you'd get a kick out of it."

Silence.

"Got no time, baby. Got lotsa better things to do."

Peter didn't know whether to take that as a positive sign that Davy was warming up to quoting lyrics, or that Davy was sending him a very thinly veiled message. Peter suspected it was the latter.

Well, Peter wasn't sure how to proceed from here. This had to be handled delicately. Davy didn't blow his cork easily, but when he did, you'd better be braced. The only thing he could think of to amend things was to quote more romantic lyrics, which would accomplish one of two things. One was good and one bad. The good would be that maybe he could get Davy to giggle, and then the "lovin" door would be easier to open again, or, the bad would be that Davy would decide to let Peter have it, and that _didn't _mean let him have it romantically, but rather, a tongue lashing. He didn't want to take the risk, but he knew that if he didn't do _something, _silence would be his only companion. Davy could be the definition of stubborn at times like these. But then, Peter had to admit he'd asked for it.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Peter forged ahead. "Hey, look what you have done. Showing me the sun. And now, its shining through...its nice to be with you."

Still kneeling beside the bed, his head still poked under the covers so Davy could just make out the outline of his face, Peter smiled and showed off his dimple for all he was worth, hoping Davy could see it. It was shaded a bit, but Davy saw it alright. Shivers went through him. God, how he needed Peter!

"That wasn't necessary, but it _was _a nice touch. Are you ready for some lovin'? Cause I'm _not _doing any more chasing, mate."

Peter's answer was to jump into bed with Davy and throw his arms around him.

"Now _that's_ more like it!" Davy welcomed him eagerly, noting almost right away that Peter had taken his pants off. Ahhhh... it had all been worth it in the end.

"You're taking me feel a bit adrift," Davy said softly.

"That's different. Never heard you use that expression before."

"Its kinda what just came out of my mouth, babe." He felt Peter's very warm and very impressive erection brush against his thigh as Peter shifted on the mattress. Peter seemed to have an erection more often than not when he was in Davy's vicinity. Nothing else made Davy feel so special. Actually, the same was true for him, being near Peter. If Peter got within 5 feet, Davy started to feel that familiar tingle. And if he got any closer, it grew into a full erection. No female had ever had quite such an effect on him.

Right now, Davy was fully ready for action. In every way. Just kissing and cuddling with Peter would be wonderfully erotic and satisfying. And it would have been fine with him if that's all Peter was in the mood for. He wasn't into this just for sex-he truly loved Peter, and the closeness was what he craved the most. The touching, the intimacy. The sex was just the icing on the cake. The most delicious icing in the world, true, but the sex without the tenderness and caring they shared would not have been anywhere near the same.

Intense devotion best described the look in Peter's eyes as he studied Davy's face in the soft glow from the nightlight. Davy couldn't look away. Peter held him spellbound. It was funny how Peter had gone to the trouble of buying various nightlights (fourteen, to be exact) until he found the one that emitted the amount of light he considered to be just perfect for the two of them. They could still see each other's faces, but not in intricate detail, and Davy had to admit it was without flaw. Almost like a _low burning fire in a dark room without the flickering _was the way Peter put it. Davy agreed it really set the mood. Good thing, because it was a rare night he and Peter weren't in the mood.

_Okay, hang on here._ Peter was starting to intoxicate him. He just kept staring into Davy's eyes, all seriousness. Then, stalking like a cat ready to pounce, he hovered over Davy, suspended there for a moment, then bent down so gradually as to knot Davy's insides with want before he tenderly licked Davy's lips. The first touch was almost like an electric shock, so long had it been in coming. Davy opened his mouth just as naturally as if Peter were a drink of water.

Raw passion was something that was innate with Peter. Lust and passion were as natural to him as breathing. His masculinity was overpowering, even though Peter seemed oblivious to it. You could actually feel it in the air as if it were alive. He had a presence that could knock the air right out of you if you weren't prepared. It crept up on you, but once you tasted it, you never forgot it. Yet he was also very emotional and sensitive. And quiet. With a little more confidence, he'd be dynamite. But then, the girls would be all over him, and Davy was too possessive of him to even want to go there with his thoughts. _Perfect_, thought Davy. Peter was everything he wanted in a partner, lover and friend.

"You're finally gonna give in, huh?" Davy whispered with a smile in his voice. "You gave me a run for my money today. God, please lick my lips again like you just did."

Peter did-in fact, he licked until he was inside Davy's mouth, eagerly tasting, devouring. This kiss was the most intense of the day. When Peter kissed you passionately, you _knew _you'd been kissed. It was untamed, and Davy grabbed the back of Peter's head as he eagerly sucked Peter's tongue into his mouth. Peter had always loved that. He groaned loudly. It reminded him of all the delicious things they could do to each other. It was so intimate. After Davy had done that for a while, he got more aggressive and plunged his tongue deep into Peter's mouth in time with his thrusting against Peter's thigh.

Davy thought Peter was going to come unhinged. He moaned and whimpered, sucking at Davy's tongue now. Christ, it was so hot and so good. Davy felt Peter's hands-actually the backs of his fingers, tickling up and down the insides of his thighs. Davy spread his legs and grunted as Peter ran his tongue down Davy's neck, chest and belly, and finally... to his cock.

It occurred to Davy in the seconds before Peter's tongue reached his cock that he might be sending a subconscious message to Peter by plunging his tongue in and out of his mouth as he had. He'd thought it was from the frustration of waiting so long, and wanting Peter to know the depth of his passion. But now he wasn't so sure. Maybe he was mimicking the in and out motion of sex? He wondered what Peter's thoughts were on this. He remembered Peter's earlier remark on fucking, and made a mental note to bring it up soon. But right now, he got lost in the mind numbing suction of Peter's sweet mouth.

Peter was greedy about it-as if he hadn't tasted Davy in weeks. The long day at Disneyland had apparently really whetted his appetite. He twirled his tongue around the tip, then sucked at it gently, his other hand between Davy's legs, carressing his balls.

Peter reached up and gently pinched and rubbed Davy's nipples next. The dual sensations fueled Davy to greater heights. Peter's mouth was so wet...the sucking noises were in part what made him rapidly climb to the summit, and pushed him over the precipice into orgasm. That was one of the things he loved most about Peter-how uninhibited he was. Peter never tried to suppress the natural sounds of their lovemaking. In fact, he clearly enjoyed it.

As Davy's spine arched, the explosion bottled within him erupted, and his hands tangled in Peter's hair. "Peter! I love the way you suck me...oh my god, you're so good." Peter's hands cupped Davy's buttocks, encouraging Davy's wild thrusts.

Davy didn't even try to hold back, and his cries of completion were anything but subdued. Peter coaxed the last drops of Davy's emision from his cock, still mouthing gently in a typical Peter manner. Davy was tender now, so Peter gave him a few last loving licks and kisses before crawling up to lay on Davy's chest, a very sultry look on his face.

Davy's labored breathing slowly returned to normal, and as if awakening from a very intense dream, he was aware of Peter's very erect member throbbing against his thigh... and his mouth watered.


	5. Chapter 5

_I want to be as uninhibited as Peter,_ thought Davy. But some things are easier said than done. Old habits are often very hard to break. He was raised to never completely abandon control. To be a gentleman, to be polite, to be courteous, to be _proper._

It occurred to him though, that in order to sow as well as reap the finest that was possible, one might have to learn how to discriminate, and possibly even disregard certain rules. In this case, that meant allowing himself to _be _himself, and to hell with being proper.

Peter had opened his eyes to this. Raw, uninhibited, adventurous, carefree Peter. Davy doubted Peter had ever even questioned being the way he was. It was just innate with him. So natural... He envied Peter. Even being aware of all this, it was difficult for Davy to let go of things that had been drilled into him, and thus ingrained within for as long as he could remember.

How Peter could appear, and often act, so innocent, yet be so open and unashamed (with the exception of when he was being coy) of his lustful actions just astonished Davy. Peter was pure-that's what it was. He didn't know any better. Didn't know how to hold back. Didn't know how easily he could be hurt either. Peter just went with the assumption that the rest of the world was as unconditionally accepting and loving as he was. Peter dove into love and sex just as he dove into life itself-head first. Davy would love to be able to do that-just once. After that first time, he knew it would get easier each time. Peter was the one he wanted to do it with. Only Peter.

Maybe now was the time to start... _I'm going to do it. Be as untamed as Peter. Taste what its like to be that wild stallion that no one can touch. _Peter is my wild stallion, and I'm going to claim him completely. And give Peter a taste of my untapped wildness as well.

One minute he was contemplating how he'd go about being wild like Peter, and the next minute he was actually doing it. He grasped Peter's cock in his hand and began to pump firmly, not regulating his breathing, but letting it come in gasps as Peter did when aroused. Hiding nothing on his face. He didn't have to fake it, not by a long shot. At the same time he drew near Peter's ear, breathing the words that set them both aflame.

"I want you to come hard. I want to make you feel how you make me feel." Peter's eyes were wide and eager. He liked this-really liked Davy coming on to him so aggressively.

For the longest time, Davy had been tentative and hesitant about sex with Peter. That was because, obviously, Peter was the same sex, and therefore, forbidden fruit. But if he was going to do it anyway, he might as well do it right.

He licked and nibbled at Peter's nipples, which stiffened in arousal. Peter arched his back in pleasure, drawing a sharp breath with a snake-like hiss through his teeth.

Davy then went straight for what his mouth watered for. Before Peter could even react, Davy was deep-throating him. Peter was astonished. Davy had never been this aggressive, this quickly. He usually built up to it more slowly. Well, he'd been aggressive at the sheep shearing barn earlier today because of the frustration of being put off for so long. But this... Peter had never seen this side of Davy before. And was it ever exciting!

As the tip of Peter's cock nudged the back of Davy's throat over and over, Peter gave himself up to the sensations.

Davy, meanwhile, turned himself loose for the first time. _Completely_ loose. He slid his hands under Peter's buttocks and devoured his cock. His tongue lashed all over Peter's cock, sucking and shocking Peter so wantonly that Peter nearly choked on his own saliva.

When Peter came, it was the most explosive the two of them had yet indulged in. They held each other afterward. They practiced a lot of after play, as they often did when they had waited to the point of near desperation for each other. The hugs were unusually tender, the kisses extra sweet and lingering.

Davy took a deep breath, knowing he needed to address what Peter had said to him earlier.

"Don't think I've forgotten what you brought up earlier about me...fucking you." Davy wasn't sure if it were the right moment to use that term. He normally only used it when both of them were reaching their height of passion, but he wanted to be certain Peter understood what he was saying to him.

"You seemed interested, and if you want to talk about it anytime, don't hold back. I just want you to know...that I'm not ignoring or avoiding it."

Peter, now blushing ten shades of red, said, "Yeah, I was too shy to bring it up again. I'm glad you did."

"Um... next Saturday we have _nothing _planned, right?" Davy asked.

"Nope!"

"Well then... maybe... we can talk about it then. I'm not opposed to anything you want."

Peter got even redder, and snuggled even closer to Davy. "Thanks, babe," he said.

But tomorrow was Sunday, which was lots closer than next Saturday, and unbeknownst to Davy, Peter had plans...


	6. Chapter 6

Peter had pulled a fast one on Mike and Micky, who had planned to practice today, Sunday, their last chance to practice before the gig tonight. Saturday was usually the only day they took off, except for gigs. They could use all the gigs they could get, so rarely turned one down.

Peter had gotten up early Sunday morning, knowing Mike was an early riser, and, after ruffling his hair up, put on his best raspy, sick-sounding voice, and sported an unsually slow, lethargic gait. He crept unsteadily downstairs, making sure Mike saw him supporting himself on the bannister as if he were dizzy, and complained of feeling a bit of a cold coming on, and said he wanted to get plenty of rest so he'd be able to play that night. Mike had eyed Peter with a bit of suspicion, as he'd heard some questionable noises coming from upstairs last night, and wondered if maybe Peter were just exhausted, but could hardly argue with the bassist, as Peter was the best musician among them, and they couldn't do a gig without him. Better to miss practice than miss the gig tonight. Mike nodded, and watched Peter struggle back up the stairs, hoping the excess of junk food and sex wouldn't render Peter useless at the gig tonight.

Peter felt sneaky and underhanded, but he also felt strongly that he couldn't wait until next Saturday to make his move with Davy. Otherwise, he was afraid he might have a reflexive orgasm if he went to practice. He wasn't going to go through that humiliation again. Davy was seriously getting to him. Even after last night, raw need clutched his gut. Why could he not get his fill of Davy? Plenty of guilt ate at him, but not enough to go ahead with practice.

Just a minute ago, Davy had reached over for Peter to find only cold sheets, and mumbled a string of profanities that were worthy of a longshoreman. _NOT the second morning in a row! Peter... how could you DO this to me? _ _Son of a bitch!_

Just then Peter came practically bouncing in the door, locking it behind him, his devilish smile alluding some secret evil deed as he continued to bounce over to the bed, hardly able to wait to reveal his plans to Davy.

With poorly concealed pride at his cleverness, he announced to Davy that he needed a day alone with him, as all day yesterday was spent at Disneyland, and he felt some down time was needed before the gig tonight. He did, however, also mention the white lie he'd told Mike about a cold coming on so Davy wouldn't accidently blow it by acting surprised if Mike were to mention Peter feeling sick.

Davy, of course, wasn't as angry as his curses would make a person think; he loved Peter too much. He smiled gently. "I thought I'd have to kick your butt for leaving me alone in bed for the second morning in a row!"

Davy had a suspicion of what this was about, but he wasn't rock solid positive. He suspected it might have something to do with the brief chat they'd had last night about he and Peter taking their relationship to the next level. Fucking level. He chuckled inwardly. Peter was just as eager and impatient as a young colt to try something new. He felt it in the air surrounding Peter. Peter threw palpable vibes his way when he was avid about something.

"So you're gonna make it up to me for making me suffer at Disneyland all day?"

"David, you know how I feel about you. I love you," Peter slipped under the sheets and wrapped himself around Davy. Peter the spider. Davy smiled to himself.

While downstairs, Peter had brushed his teeth and used mouthwash, telling Mike he was gargling with warm water for his sore throat. Davy had used the upstairs bathroom to brush his teeth and use mouthwash also. Morning breath was now one less thing to worry about.

They laughed after kissing and tasting the mouthwash mingling in both mouths.

"I'm gonna grab a shower," said Davy.

"I was just going to suggest that," Peter threw a tantalizing look his way, and Davy felt that familiar tingling down below. By the time they stepped into the shower, both of them would have raging hard-ons; Davy knew that from past experiences. Greed gripped him.

They pretty much kept their hands off each other in the shower for fear of spontaneous combustion, but had allowed a mild bit of contact between their well soaped erections. Sliding against each other, smooth and slippery with the wet soap film was almost too much stimulation. They broke apart reluctantly, rinsed off and toweled each other dry.

Sitting on the bed, both still naked, Peter had a curious expression on his face. Davy recognized it as concentration-Peter wanted to say something. Davy waited...and waited. He chewed his lip and pondered why Peter seemed so ill at ease. In the back of his mind though, he knew what was coming.

"Come on, Pete. Let's lie down and you tell me what's on your mind. Dig that?"

"Yeah..." Peter sounded tentative, hesitant, even a touch skittish.

"Go ahead, babe," Davy assumed a neutral, and thus, non-threatening position by folding his arms behind his head casually. Not looking Peter in the eye, but at the ceiling. Peter laid his head on Davy's chest.

"It has to do with what we talked about last night..."

"Thought so. You seem uptight," _that was the understatement of the year,_ thought Davy.

"I am. I'm scared you'll think I'm perverted or something."

"Peter, if it has to do with... fucking...well, like I said before, I'll try to make you happy however I can. I have no problem with it."

"You don't?"

"No, other than the fact that I've never done it before...and...I'm afraid of hurting you."

"I trust you." Peter's simple words soothed Davy somewhat.

"David... can we do it now? I mean, we have the whole day..."

That got Davy's attention in a flash. He hadn't surmised it would be this soon. Not even close. He had thought they would only _talk_ about it today.

Peter flipped over onto his back. "Davy, please..."

"Wait... hold on there, Pete. I'm not prepared for... something like this. I thought it would be next Saturday... from the way the conversation went last night."

"Is there any reason why we have to wait until next weekend?" Peter's voice was tinged with disappointment, and that always tore at Davy's heart.

"There isn't any reason... its just that... I wouldn't know the hell what to do, or _how_ to do it."

"We could learn together, couldn't we? Take it slow? Like we did when we first... started making love...? And look how that turned out!"

Peter had a very good point. But Davy still wasn't prepared mentally. He cleared his throat and thought furiously of something he could use as an excuse to put it off.

"Damn it, Pete. Shit..."

Davy's mind was in turmoil. Maybe a bit of humor was in order here. Humor always had a positive effect on Peter. But then... Peter was naturally positive. He was sanguine about life in general. Yep, humor might help to lighten things up a bit.

"Man, I feel like an Oscar Meyer," said Davy, a teasing sort of smile playing with the corners of his lips.

"Wiener? You're hungry? We can't go downstairs like _this,_" Peter exclaimed, looking down at their erections jutting forward.

"No, hungry for _your _Oscar Meyer," with that, Davy dove like a hawk and latched onto Peter's cock, applying long, slow sucking that was almost languorous. Tame the tension... He felt Peter giggle soundlessly at his lame joke, then moan. Good-Peter was starting to relax. Now, to just get Peter off this disturbing subject! He realized he needed more time-he'd thought he was ready to discuss it, and that was true to a point... but he _wasn't_ ready for action. That much was clear to him now.

Peter was soon squirming all over the bed, uttering all the feral sounds he was so good at, sounding delirious. Once again, Davy thought about all the girls he'd known that would jump all over that. But he also knew Peter wasn't with him just because he was so painfully shy with girls.

Peter was so open and honest that Davy knew Peter would tell him if he wanted to start dating girls. And Davy had been very clear with Peter that the only way their relationship would be satisfactory to him was if there was nothing but complete honesty.

Davy still went out on some weekends, waiting until he knew Mike and Micky had left, then coming home to Peter. He didn't relish living a double life, but was just not quite ready to tell the other two that he and Peter were in a relationship. It wasn't that Davy hadn't tried with women...

He'd danced with women at clubs when he went out with the others, even kissed them. He enjoyed it, and even got excited, but still... not one of them could come close to what he felt with Peter. With Peter everything was so much deeper. He didn't feel any kind of affection for the women, yet his devotion to Peter overflowed.

It hadn't always been this way. Davy was a real lady's man up until a few months ago. So much so that the other band members could hardly keep track of who he was dating from week to week. Girls fawned over Davy wherever he went. Davy's passion for the female gender was never in question, as he dated more than the other three put together.

Davy wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but in looking back, he could recognize early signs and patterns in his behavior and attitude that should have set off warning bells long ago. He'd thought Peter was attractive from the beginning, but then, he considered lots of men attractive, but that didn't mean he wanted to _date_ them. So he took no particular notice of it.

But then other things started to come to the fore. He realized he was beginning to watch Peter at practice, and Peter had some pretty sexy moves with his bass guitar. Peter had a way of "dancing" with his bass (if you wanted to call it that) that was just arresting. Some of those moves left Elvis in the dust. Davy loved learning new dance moves, so at first he chaulked it up to that. But when more and more triggers popped up, Davy started to suspect he had just a little bit of a crush on Peter. Davy found himself checking out Peter's butt in the tight gray pants they all wore at gigs. He was astonished by how thick and glossy Peter's hair was-how it fell into his eyes in the sexiest manner. The way Peter got all excited and happy when playing was infectious. Peter made them all smile-even _Mike _sometimes, which was no easy task.

Then seeing Peter without a shirt for the first time really made Davy start to fret over his feelings. That nice firm physique, which was a bit more filled out than the rest of them, the hairy chest, the arms that were showing the effects of Peter's time with the barbells. Then when he started not being able to pull his eyes away from Peter's crotch-that's when Davy realized something was not right. The fact that Peter was HUGE in that department and wore no underwear only egged Davy on. Peter was sweet, polite and nice to anyone and everyone, and was also too trusting and gullible. A rare find. But it was Peter's dimpled smile that finally sealed the deal. He had a dimpled smile for everyone, but the one he reserved for Davy was special-it was glowing.

On the day that Peter's smile melted Davy again for the millionth time, Davy finally admitted to himself that Peter did something for him that no girl could. He knew this even though he and Peter had never even made contact (except for normal Monkee behavior), let alone kiss or cuddle.

Mike and Micky were only fooled for so long. Neither of them were dim witted, by any means. Davy began going out with them less often, preferring different clubs, so he claimed. Yet whenever they got home, be it 11pm or 2am, Davy was always already home, _and so was Peter._

Further, even though Peter was shy, at first he would go out with them to clubs. And occasionally land a girl who liked the cute, shy type. But as time went on, that gradually stopped. He claimed he had other things to do when asked to go out on the town, yet, like Davy, was always home whenever they arrived. Not only that, but he and Davy were usually upstairs. Sometimes Mike and Micky would come in a bit early to find Davy and Peter on the couch, and it seemed they were sitting almost right on top of each other, and would quickly scoot over to put space between them when the other two walked in the door.

Davy ran all this through his head, and realized it was only too obvious to everyone under their roof what was going on. Yet no one breathed a word of it to either he or Peter. The final nail in the coffin were the noises that only a mostly deaf person wouldn't have heard. Peter could moan, groan, grunt, and cry out with the very best of them, and Davy was determined _not _to discourage that tendency in Peter, as it excited them both to no end; it was such a _Peter_ thing, and it also proved to Davy that Peter was equally devoted to him.

Over time, Davy reflected, they had grown closer and closer, talking for long hours about a variety of subjects, and that eventually turned into stares between them that would last for varying lengths of time. Especially upstairs, or if they were in a room by themselves so no one would witness it. Stares that transmitted so many unspoken thoughts. It was very difficult not to stare at each other at practice or at gigs. They limited it to smiles, but just the same, if you were a fairly intuitive, observant person, and knew what to look for, it was all right out there in the open.

When Peter reached his orgasm, Davy studied how splendidly Peter surrendered to the feelings. He had to keep reminding himself that he wanted to automatically respond the way Peter did some day soon-have it be second nature, learn to let everything out and live in the moment. And do it that way every time.

After a few minutes of Peter catching his breath, his eyes took on an inner light that Davy picked up on.

"How about it?" Peter was blushing again. Davy snapped himself back to the present.

_Oh no... _he was still bound and determined...

"I don't... we don't... have anything... to make it easier," Davy tried to convey the dilemma.

"'Okay, well then... how about if I lube you up?"

_What?_ Did Peter have something like K-Y lying around? Davy had never seen any.

Peter ducked his head and began going down on Davy. Oh, _that_ kind of lube! Peter's saliva was thick on him in no time, and the loud slurping noises he was making was causing Davy to feel crazed with desire. He noticed Peter's erection was nearly as hard as it was when they had started-but then, that was Peter. He was such a sexual being. It was just integral with him.

When Davy's breathing grew rapid and he felt the first waves of ecstasy wash over him, prior to orgasm, Peter stopped. He knew Davy so damn well!

"I think you're lubed enough," said Peter in a small, distinctly nervous voice.

"Oh Pete... I don't think I'm ready..."

"Yes you are! Look how hard you are, and look how slimey!"

Davy would have laughed if he hadn't been so on edge.

"I don't want to hurt you Pete. What if... you start...bleeding... or something? I know _nothing _about this!"

"I trust you not to hurt me, David. You're always gentle. And I'll tell you if I want you to stop. Please... I want to experience this with you."

Davy chewed his lower lip as was his habit when concentrating. Peter was on his back, so vulnerable looking, holding his arms out to Davy. So trusting.

"Come on Davy baby. Please?"

Davy moved over to him, a long sigh escaping his lips. If Peter wanted it this bad, he wasn't going to deny him.

"You _promise_ you'll let me know right away if you want me to stop?"

"Yes, I promise." Peter's respiration was fast, his eyes dilated. He was eager for this. There was real zeal in his manner. Davy knew now that he'd probably been thinking about it for a long before before gathering the courage to bring the subject up.

Davy moved over to him and laid on top of him. He started by rubbing Peter's erection gently with his hand-just enough to entice. Then he rubbed his balls the same way, working his way downward. When he found Peter's entrance, Peter was holding his breath.

"Peter, breathe. Relax." Peter made a valiant effort to do just that. Davy had to hand it to him. The guy was determined once he set his mind to something, and fear be damned.

Davy found Peter's opening, and gently inserted one finger to the first knuckle, watching Peter's face intently. A little deeper, and Peter was tense and holding his breath again.

"Remember, relax, breathe," Davy crooned gently to his lover. Peter followed his direction, and the intense clamping that had been squeezing Davy's finger eased a bit. A good sign. When Davy got to the second knuckle, Peter's eyes got considerably wider.

"Hurt?" asked Davy, ready to pull his finger away.

"No, its not bad."

Davy ever-so-slowly inserted his finger all the way. Peter's face went a bit pale, but he was making a conscious effort to remain relaxed. Davy slowly started to move his finger in and out, kissing Peter's chest at the same time. Peter's nipples were stiff as Davy's tongue laved and teased them.

"Another finger?" asked Davy.

Peter nodded. Davy inserted a second finger as gently as he could. It was much easier now that Peter starting to accept this foreign feeling. In and out, in and out. Peter wasn't no longer clamping at all.

"I don't know how this is done, but you might be ready now. We can try... but you let me know if it hurts at all."

Davy knew it would hurt-how could it not? At first... but then it was supposed to get easier. Then pleasurable. He knew very little, just bits and pieces he'd heard over the years ... jokes. He wasn't sure what was truth or fiction. He just hoped he had prepared Peter enough.

After removing his fingers, he placed his erection against Peter's opening and pushed ever so gently. Peter's face screwed up a bit, his mouth twisted slightly. But no complaints.

"I've gotta remember to relax," said Peter several times, and it almost sounded like a mantra.

Davy nodded, proud of Peter to retain his cool during such a trying moment. Little by little, Davy pushed in a fraction of an inch at a time. He'd wait a few seconds for Peter to adjust to him, then, when Peter didn't complain, he became more confident.

"Hurt?"

"Yeah, a little. Feels really weird too. But don't stop. I'll get used to it."

Peter was starkly pale now, compared to before when Davy was only using his fingers. He was putting much effort into relaxing, but Davy could tell the pain remained. There was more pain than Peter was letting on.

"I'm stopping." As good as it felt-and it felt fabulous, Davy started to pull out.

"No! Davy, its just starting to feel good. Make that little movement you did just then."

"This movement?" Davy angled himself just a touch.

"Yeah! Oh...my god, it feels good when you do that."

Davy realized he must be massaging Peter's prostate with his cock. Hopefully that would arouse Peter enough to ease or even erase the discomfort. It did. Peter started to change right before his eyes. Little by little he got that hooded look, his "bedroom eyes" look, like he was sleepy. But he was anything but sleepy...

Peter wrapped his legs around Davy's upper thighs and moaned low and long.

"David, keep touching that place inside. Its feeling really good now."

Davy had all he could do to keep from exploding from the snugness that enveloped him and knowing it felt good to Peter made it even more difficult to keep from thrusting strongly. Tight and hot...and Peter underneath him. Right there where he could kiss him, kiss his chest, look into his eyes. Which he did plenty of. Their eyes stayed locked for a seeming eternity, mere inches away from each other's faces as Davy started to thrust in and out, more aggressively now that Peter was responding so delightfully. He was jubilant. That dimpled smile didn't stop. The eye contact was nearly as exciting as what Davy was doing and feeling.

Faster and faster, and Davy could see Peter's cock was oozing from the tip. Pre come. That meant Peter wasn't faking it for Davy's sake. Not that Davy thought he would for a second. When Peter started to buck under him, Davy knew he couldn't last much longer.

"Help me..." Peter pleaded softly.

Oh... Davy knew what he meant. He angled his cock at that place again, and at the same time he grasped Peter's cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts. In what seemed a very short time, they came within a minute of each other. Both moaned frantically, but Peter was nearly shouting. Knowing Peter was so excited caused Davy to lose control the way he truly wanted and needed to. He thrust wildly, making some pretty wild animal sounds himself.

"Fuck me, Davy!" Peter's head was thrashing back and forth. "Its so good..."

Davy nibbled Peter's neck when at his peak, whispering wonderful, erotic things into Peter's ear.

"Come for me, babe. I love you Peter."

"I love you Davy."

"Peter, I'm fucking you, and it won't be the last time either. Far from it, I assure you."

"You're what?" Peter needed to hear it again. Yearned for it.

_"Fucking you."_

Davy's words caused Peter to gasp and buck a few more times, hard, nearly throwing Davy off the bed.

Then at last, Peter was totally drained, as limp as a rag. His body, anyway. His cock was still partially hard, but that was normal for Peter. Davy often teasingly referred to him as the Marathon Man.

"Peter...Peter, are you alright?" Davy was holding him and kissing his beard stubble.

"Better than alright. _WOW, _that was out of sight. I can't believe it."

"Neither can I. You know... you're gonna have to fuck _me_ sometime soon."

"Oh Davy... I'd love to!" Peter's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and Davy's thoughts started churning again...


	7. Chapter 7

Making out-what a delicious passtime it was for Davy and Peter. No... not a passtime exactly, but more like an frequent, obsessive adventure. They were completely hooked, and neither one was afraid to admit it to each other. New territories opened up to them daily. And it was the smallest of things that pleased them the most. Like making out.

"Unendurable days are what nights together are for," Peter would often say softly as they lay entwined together when the sun had long gone down. They worked hard with their music career. Long hours, practicing until they thought they'd drop. They were fortunate in that their greatest pleasure, music, was also their livelihood. They loved their work-not everyone could say that.

But no matter how tired they were, making out was a never-ending delight. Wherever they happened to be-on the bed, on the floor, in the shower, it made no difference. It was the most enjoyable part of lovemaking for them. An intense make out session could last for an hour or more. Oftentimes they would move to something else, such as talking or reading, then continue on later. Not a word needed to be spoken. It was all so natural. They just gravitated to each other when the time was right. The temporary restraint and resulting anticipation made the eventual lovemaking all the more explosive and sweet.

At the moment they were on Davy's bed in each other's arms, making out once again, a very passionate session going on, shirts undone, but otherwise fully clothed. They were on their sides, and there could be no mistake about what was going on. They were so intent on each other that they never heard the door open...

The sound of a throat clearing loudly right next to the bed spooked them both. Peter very nearly toppled in a sideways spin off the side of the bed. And would have if Davy hadn't already had him in a secure grip.

Davy and Peter seemed to be paralyzed. Neither one was able to move, as if in one of those dreams where one remains helplessly motionless against their will. So having no other option, they stayed just the way they were, clutching each other, ever so slowly and reluctantly lifting their eyes to see Micky...

Micky was mortified beyond belief. He always knocked. This time though, he'd been so excited about some good news he had that he'd forgotten, and barged right in.

The one and only good thing about this, thought Davy, was that they at least hadn't been on top of the covers, naked and, well... engaged in actual lovemaking. But this was plenty bad enough as it was...

As for Micky, he felt as if his legs would give out. He broke into a sweat and felt nauseated. Sure, he was aware that some guys preferred other guys, but actually _witnessing_ it happen was totally different. Somehow it looked so... _unnatural. _He was pretty sure he'd be having some graphic nightmares about this. Gag, scream or run? Which urge was strongest? He didn't do any of them. Like Peter and Davy he was seemingly paralyzed.

At the same time, Micky was thinking much the same as Davy-thank god they hadn't been doing more than kissing! As it was, the sight was frightful. Micky imagined he'd be traumatized for the rest of his life. The acute embarrassment made his stomach burn, his palms were slippery, his head ached. Altogether, very much like a bad case of the flu.

Why hadn't he just turned and walked out when he'd seen them? Micky realized it must have been like the proverbial deer-caught-in the-headlights moment, and also... curiosity. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he had always wondered what it would be like to watch Davy and Peter when he heard those unearthly noises coming from upstairs. But at the same time it scared the shit out of him. He and Mike had not acknowledged even to each other what they'd been hearing for the longest time. They'd remained in semi-denial.

A big blob of warm dough on the bed-that's how Davy felt. Dead weight. He was all soft inside, moldable; he had a sensation that he wouldn't hold together- it had been caused by Peter's nearness, yet on the outside he was terrified, wooden and cold.

Except for the bulge in his pants and Peter's. Now Peter's bulge-there was _NO_ hiding _that._

He had to face it-there was _no _hiding _anything_. It was all out in the open now, regardless of how long Micky had known, but not _indicated_ he'd known.

"God, guys." Micky let out a long-suffering sigh, his quivering hand coming up to rest on his sweat dampened forehead.

"Sorry Mick," Davy gingerly got up, afraid he'd fall over and splat on the floor much like the imaginary blob of dough he felt like. He busied himself with straightening and buttoning his shirt, tucking it back into his pants clumsily. He wasn't capable right now of being the graceful gazelle he usually was. Not under these circumstances. You seldom saw Davy at a total loss for words, but this was one of those rare moments.

When there was nothing left to do with his shirt, he walked out the bedroom door, crooking a finger in Micky's direction to indicate he wanted him to follow.

Sitting on the couch, side by side, Micky apologized, "Man... I'm sorry. Shoulda knocked. Was just... excited about the gig we wanted-so I inadvertendly walked in. We got the gig."

Davy's eyes glittered as he met Micky's eyes for the first time. This gig was, indeed, long awaited, and he feared he and Peter had ruined it for Micky. "That's great," he said. But then his gaze turned downward again.

Micky had been so elated when the phone had rung this morning, a few minutes ago, and he'd learned of them landing the gig they'd rehearsed so hard for that he felt like he'd bubble over, like a soft drink that had been shaken. This gig was important-could be pivotal to them all. It paid very well, and the place was a very nice establishment. And it might even lead to more gigs...

But Mike wasn't home, and Micky had had no one to tell, and he just knew he was going to _burst_ if he didn't tell someone fast. That was when he'd sprinted up the stairs and without thinking, had burst into Davy and Peter's bedroom.

"You and Peter..." Micky trailed off, as if he were talking to himself, trying to process what he'd just seen firsthand. Hearing it was one thing-_seeing_ it was a whole different animal. _Seeing it made it real._

"Sorry, Mick. we just couldn't bring ourselves to tell you..." Davy's voice was uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable sounding. "I know its been obvious for a while, but we should have...said something. It was just so awkward...you know?"

Micky didn't know what to say. He didn't have a single clue. So he just sat there, dumbfounded and listless. This seemed somehow so inane to him. Davy could have just about any girl he wanted. _Why another man? Why Peter?_

"But girls..." Micky finally managed to squeeze out after a few minutes of silence.

"Just for show...most of the time. I come home earlier than you guys do."

That said it all. _Davy preferred Peter to girls_ thought Micky with astonishment.

Just then Mike walked in. Micky had never been so relieved in his life. He snapped out of his nearly catatonic state long enough to deliver the good news about the gig to Michael. Micky's heart wasn't all the way in it because of his stunned state, so he wasn't as bubbly enthusiastic as he normally would have been, but Mike didn't notice because of his own overwhelming excitement over the news.

"Groovy! Man, what a break this is for us! I can really dig playin' at the Hi Brow! Its where its at! We'll actually be able to pay the rent _early _this month!" Mike was rattling on in his near delirium at their fortune as Micky and Davy sat there like stones, each in his own world.

"Gotta go tell Pete the news," Like a suddenly released bird, Davy fairly flew up the stairs, glad of the convenient excuse to get away from Micky.

Davy walked in the door and closed it, slipping his hands in his back pockets, an old habit. Chewing his lower lip in concentration-another old habit.

"I was afraid to come down there. What happened?"

"Good thing you didn't. Probably woulda made it even more creepy for Micky. He's weirding out bad enough as it is. It bloody floored him."

"But we know that he knew about it because of the noise."

"I know, but walking in on it must have been the worst kind of shock. A bummer, really."

Peter nodded.

"Anyway, water under the bridge. We got the gig at the Hi Brow!"

Peter leapt up off the bed and grabbed Davy's shoulders, hopping up and down with his own uninhibited brand of unbridled joy.

"Careful, Pete. They might think were 'celebrating' on the floor."

"Know what?"

"What, Pete..."

"Saturday's two days away."

Davy gifted Peter with a half smile. "I know, _AND _we have nothing planned, right?"

"Right," Peter's amber eyes glowed with a warmth only Davy could bring to them.

"Well, that's plenty to offset what's happened tonight."

"You betcha."

The gig went beautifully. They only messed up a couple of times, and unless you were an accomplished musician, you wouldn't have even noticed it. You would never know of the uncomfortable scene a few days before either. The band was in top shape and digging how much the audience seemed to respond to them.

Afterward the club owner had only praise for them, and asked them if they would consider signing a contract to play there every weekend for the next month. If all went as well as it did tonight, the owner had hinted at a longer contract, and from there, who knew what might happen? The sky was the limit, and all the guys felt as if their feet didn't touch the ground as they walked out of there.

Once home, they shared a group hug, and it was then that Davy knew for sure that Mike and Micky had accepted the fact that Davy and Peter were a pair. He sensed no judgement against them. Quiet acceptance. Everything was falling right into place, and best of all, no friends had been lost. They happily broke out the beer and celebrated.

Davy woke slowly, and stretched luxuriously. Then it hit him-_Saturday... _gingerly, his hand traveled to Peter's side of the bed, afraid to open his eyes. Had it all been a dream? That they'd gotten a contract with the Hi Brow? And, even better, was today really Saturday? And would Peter be beside him? Or would he feel only cold sheets?

As his hand found Peter's warm, tractable body, Davy let out a long, deep sigh. Peter rolled over onto his back and hugged Davy close, a cozy, sleepy, inviting smile on his lips. Oh yes... _Saturday._


End file.
